


In My Heart, Light Up My Life

by bigbabyjeno



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Cats, Cuddling, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Frottage, Kindergarten teacher Jaehyun, M/M, Tooth Rotting Fluff, cake decorator taeyong, literally just fluff, mentioned side johnten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-22 13:00:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbabyjeno/pseuds/bigbabyjeno
Summary: "You know, whoever lived here before had taped all of the windows shut?”He frowns as if he’s just remembered the fact and he studies the little kitchen window, eyes trailing along the frame, looking for any clues as to why. He sees nothing. Confused once again, he moves slowly into the living room to look at the windows in there, only half listening as Ten throws out theories. “Maybe the windows leak when it rains. Maybe they hated the smell of fresh air. Maybe there was a murderer in the area. Maybe your neighbor is a murderer who sneaks in through people’s windows to murder them.”Taeyong rolls his eyes, highly doubtful that his neighbor is secretly a serial killer. He feels like that would have been something the realtor would have mentioned. And even if they were, what would a little bit of tape do to keep a murderer bent on killing him out of his flat?Taeyong is just about to pose the question to Ten when he stops dead in the center of the living room, eyes wide, and whispers, “Ten, there’s a cat in my living room.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is roughly based off this prompt I saw on Tumblr like 3 years ago: "Please do something about your cat it keeps breaking into my apartment via the windows and I don't know how." Except obviously Taeyong loves the cat. Obviously. This is ridiculously self-indulgent, I'm really sorry. Also this is unbetaed, so please excuse any mistakes.
> 
> Anyway I've been writing fic for like 12 years or something, but this is my first time writing Kpop fic so it's a little scary WHEW, here we go.

It’s the first real day of autumn in Seoul - breezy and cool, but still sunny enough not to be  _ cold _ \- and Taeyong can’t figure out why his windows are taped shut. It’s not his doing, and it appears that the previous resident didn’t leave an explanation as to  _ why _ the windows are taped closed. Taeyong considers them for a minute, wondering if he should be concerned, but the breeze rattling the wind chime someone had left out on the tiny balcony and the warmth of the sun-baked glass drives all of that from his mind. It had been a terribly hot summer, so much so that he hadn't even considered opening windows or stepping out onto the balcony, and it’s too good of an opportunity to pass up.

So Taeyong moves from the tiny half-window in the kitchen to the living room and the bedroom, ripping off tape and throwing the windows wide, pausing at each one to close his eyes and savor the breeze, the faint scent of river and dying leaves on the air, the distant noises of a busy city several stories below. 

Satisfied, Taeyong heads back to the kitchen. It’s his day off and he wants to practice a new writing style he’s been working on. He puts some music on while the double boiler heats up, preps his writing mat and tools while the chocolate melts. Once everything is ready, hips wiggling to the beat and hair ruffling slightly in the breeze filtering in through the window, Taeyong bends over the countertop, chocolate pen in hand, and starts to write.

Taeyong doesn’t come out of his state of hyperfocus until hours later when his phone rings and, conveniently, he runs out of chocolate. He taps the screen absently as he surveys his handiwork. He’d started out sloppy, but he’s made significant progress in just a few hours and he likes the big, loopy letters. He doesn’t have that many orders on the books for tomorrow, he’ll try to carve out some time to practice some more. Maybe even try it out on a real cake. 

It isn’t until he registers the sound of someone clearing their throat that Taeyong realizes he had picked up the phone but hasn’t said a word. Flustered, he asks, “Hello?”

“Were you working on your day off?” a familiar voice asks, and Taeyong smiles.

“Maybe, but can you call it work when it’s something I enjoy?”

Ten snorts and says, amused, “Yes, Taeyong, it’s still called work. Take a nap, read a book, go outside for a few minutes. You moved right next to the river, have you even been to the park yet?”

A guilty smile creeps across Taeyong’s face and he replies, unable to keep the defensive note out of his voice, “I’ve been busy! It’s wedding season. Anyway, I have the windows open. You know, whoever lived here before had taped all of the windows shut?”

He frowns as if he’s just remembered the fact and he studies the little kitchen window, eyes trailing along the frame, looking for any clues as to why. He sees nothing. Confused once again, he moves slowly into the living room to look at the windows in there, only half listening as Ten throws out theories. “Maybe the windows leak when it rains. Maybe they hated the smell of fresh air. Maybe there was a murderer in the area. Maybe your neighbor is a murderer who sneaks in through people’s windows to murder them.”

Taeyong rolls his eyes, highly doubtful that his neighbor is secretly a serial killer. He feels like that would have been something the realtor would have mentioned. And even if they were, what would a little bit of tape do to keep a murderer bent on killing him out of his flat? 

Taeyong is just about to pose the question to Ten when he stops dead in the center of the living room, eyes wide, and whispers, “Ten, there’s a cat in my living room.”

“What? I didn’t hear you, speak louder. It sounded like you said there’s a cat-“

“There’s a  _ cat _ in my living room! It’s asleep on my couch. Where did it come from? Who does it belong to? Is this why the windows were taped shut?”

“Maybe there are a lot of stray cats in the area. Maybe the previous tenant was allergic,” Ten muses. He sounds way too amused for Taeyong’s liking. “Maybe they just hated animals. Sounds like a terrible person, who could hate animals?”

Taeyong squints at the cat, curled up on the sofa in a patch of sunlight, its little stomach rising and falling with even breaths. It looks so peaceful. It has one little paw pressed to its face, obscuring most of the upper half of its body, but Taeyong thinks he sees - he creeps a little closer, not wanting to startle it, and confirms - yes, it has a collar on. He breathes a sigh of relief. No stray problem. 

“It has a collar,” Taeyong mumbles into the phone, watching as the cat cracks one eye open and gazes up at him without moving a centimeter. “Do you think that means it’s friendly?”

“Maybe? Could be mean... maybe that’s why the window was taped shut. A warning. Cats  _ do _ have claws.”

“Great,” Taeyong mumbles. “Now what?”

There’s laughter in Ten’s voice when he suggests, “Why don’t you try petting it? Or you could just leave it alone, I’m sure it will eventually go back to its owner. Send me a picture first, I want to see it. Is it cute? I want a cat, but Johnny hasn’t asked the landlord if they’re allowed yet. I should remind him.”

Tongue caught between his teeth, Taeyong shuffles a little closer, trying to find a good angle for a photo. He snaps a few, just for good measure, and sends them to Ten. “How is that going, by the way? Living together?”

“It’s great,” Ten enthuses. “I mean, I have to smell his feet every night, and he’s a terrible cook, but it’s fun. Better for us. And now I don’t have to worry about being quiet so you don’t hear us. I miss you, though.”

Taeyong gazes down at the little cat, a sad smile on his face. It’s watching him, brilliant green eyes a beautiful contrast against its charcoal fur and tiny black nose. Taeyong really wants to pet it.

“I miss you, too. It’s too quiet without you. I’m going to pet the cat.”

He stretches a tentative hand out, spurred on by Ten’s encouragement. The cat just watches, unmoving, as his hand gets closer and closer. Feeling more confident now, Taeyong touches his fingertips to the top of the cat’s head. Almost immediately, its eyes slide shut and it starts to purr. 

“It’s purring!” he gasps, and Ten coos.

“He likes you. Cats always know,” he says sagely. “He knows you’re a good person.”

Warmth blooms in Taeyong’s chest and he sinks down onto the couch, laughing a little when the cat immediately stands up so it can crawl onto his lap. Feeling brave, he tucks his fingers under its chin and lifts its head so he can look at the collar. It’s very cute, pale green and covered in glittering rhinestones. There are two tags dangling from it, both shaped like cupcakes. The first tag reads, “Hi! My name is Minah. Apartment 127.” Curious, he checks the second tag and laughs at the inscription.  The front reads, “I like to visit. Don’t worry, I’ll go home on my own,” and on the back is a phone number.

He’s flat 129, so at least the cat hadn’t had to walk too far, but she must have crossed from the balconies, and Taeyong worries about her walking along that tiny ledge. Scratching her absently behind the ears, Taeyong wonders if he should save her the dangerous trip, try to knock on his neighbor’s door and return her. A few minutes pass in a pleasant daze, Taeyong gazing down at Minah’s tiny face, her eyes slitted nearly shut with pleasure as he strokes his hand down her back and rubs under her chin. It’s not until he hears Ten’s voice calling his name that Taeyong realizes he still has Ten on the phone and that he’s been chatting away this whole time.

“Did you forget about me because of the cat? I want to see the cat, I’m coming over. Don’t let it leave.”

“Her,” Taeyong murmurs, ducking his head so he can press their noses together. “Her name is Minah.” Minah’s purrs get louder and she pushes her nose against his own.

“That’s so cute, I love when people give their pets human names. I’m literally coming over right now, don’t move.”

Taeyong hears rustling and the jingle of keys in the background, and then the phone goes dead. Happy to be able to devote all of his attention to the cat before Ten arrives, Taeyong stretches out carefully on the sofa, thrilled when she curls up on his stomach, her tiny paws kneading at his shirt. He settles both of his hands on her back, fingertips scritching at her sides and above her tail until she’s kneading so hard that he can feel her sharp little claws through his shirt. He doesn’t care. 

By the time Ten arrives, Minah has crawled up his body so that she can drape herself across his neck, and her warmth and the way her stomach is vibrating with her purrs has almost lulled Taeyong to sleep. Maybe Ten was right, he should take a nap. A nap with the cat. A cat nap. Taeyong snickers at his own joke, jostling Minah a little, but she doesn’t seem to care. 

A sudden, sharp rap on the front door startles them both, but before he can even respond, the knob is turning and Ten is swinging the door wide. 

“You know, you should really lock that,” he comments in lieu of a hello. “Your neighbor might still be a murderer.”

“A murderer with a very friendly and cuddly cat,” Taeyong hums, dragging a finger down the cat’s back. He’s kind of sweltering now, with a small living furnace stretched across his neck and the sun shining right on his face, but he doesn’t want to move her. She’s so happy. 

“Maybe she’s his scout. You should check for a hidden camera,” Ten proposes, dropping to his knees by the sofa so he’s on eye level with Minah. He offers a hand for her to sniff, grins delightedly when she immediately shoves her nose against his palm. “Worth being murdered,” Ten decides as he starts to pet her. “I love her.”

Taeyong just lays there while Ten pets the cat. It’s only been a month since he and Ten had moved out of their shared apartment so he could move in with Johnny, and he still sees Ten at work and speaks to him on the phone more than is probably healthy, but he’s missed Ten’s presence at home immensely. It’s nice, sitting there petting a cat together. 

“You know,” Ten starts, interrupting Taeyong’s silent, lonely lament, “I haven’t seen your place yet.”

He cranes his neck, trying to get a good look without having to stop petting the cat. He can’t see much from this vantage point, though, and before Taeyong knows what’s happening, Ten has plucked Minah up and tucked her into his arms so he can wander the place and still give her attention. 

Taeyong just stays on the sofa for a minute, neck suddenly cold, before heaving himself up so he can follow Ten. He finds Ten standing in the kitchen, Minah cuddled to his chest with one arm and the other outstretched as he picks at a few of the now dry chocolate letters and sticks them in his mouth. 

“You didn’t even ask if I needed those for an order,” Taeyong says flatly, but Ten just shrugs.

“I ate the ugly letters, you’re welcome. You’re probably just going to make more when I leave, anyway.”

Taeyong frowns. He had actually been considering it while he dozed on the couch, but he’s out of chocolate. Ten knows him too well.

“Come on,” Ten sighs, poking Taeyong in the side. “Show me the rest. Is your bedroom decent?”

“It’s a little messy, but I think it’s okay. You’ve seen worse. You live in worse,” Taeyong teases. Ten doesn’t argue the point. Taeyong leads him back across the living room and shows him the bathroom, two small closets, and his room.

“A little messy,” Ten scoffs as he looks around. There is a pair of worn socks laid out at the foot of Taeyong’s bed and a few stray pieces of mail littering his desk. Taeyong just shrugs and scratches at the top of Minah’s head while Ten is paused in the doorway, lets his hand drop when he starts to wander. Ten trails his free hand along the stark white wall as he walks across the room, soles of his shoes squeaking on the polished concrete floor. “You should paint something here. It’s boring like this.”

Taeyong tilts his head, considering the wall Ten is pointing at, the one opposite his bed. He’s not wrong, it’s a bleak, uninterrupted stretch of white that he hasn’t decorated yet. He likes decorating things other than pastries, now and again. He did go to art school, after all.

From the corner of his eye, Taeyong sees Minah yawn and blink her eyes sleepily, and he sighs. He’ll contemplate the wall later. “I think I should take Minah back to her owner. I don’t want her walking across the balcony rails.”

Ten coos again as Taeyong lifts Minah gently out of his arms, then follows Taeyong out of his apartment and over to his neighbor’s door. Taeyong balances her on one arm so that he can knock, then curls his hand around her back and hugs her to his chest. It takes a minute, but then the door swings open and Taeyong’s heart drops down into his toes. 

The man standing in the doorway is beautiful. He’s tall and slim with soft, unstyled hair and sleepy eyes, and he is decidedly shirtless. He offers Taeyong a friendly smile - a  _ beautiful _ friendly smile with deep dimples that do funny things to Taeyong’s stomach - that turns into an amused laugh when he spots Minah curled up in his arms. “I see you had a visitor. You must be the new neighbor. Hi, I’m Jaehyun, and your nosy intruder is Minah.”

He stretches a hand out for Taeyong to shake, but Taeyong just stares dumbly at him, eyes wide, until Ten reaches around him and takes Jaehyun’s proffered hand. “Hey Jaehyun, this is Taeyong. I’m Ten. We like your cat.”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun says with a smile, lifting her out of Taeyong’s arms and raising her to his face so he can bump his nose against hers, just like Taeyong had done earlier. Taeyong’s heart does a strange, worrisome lurching thing in his chest.

“She’s nice,” Taeyong says helpfully, and he hears Ten snort behind him, aims a blind kick at Ten’s shins that he hopes Jaehyun doesn’t notice. 

“She is,” Jaehyun says, cuddling Minah to his chest. His very bare chest. Taeyong should probably warn him that cats have claws. “I’m glad you don’t mind her. The person who lived there before you was mean.” Jaehyun frowns. “He left me a rude note and tried to put up a barrier around his balcony. The building manager made him take it down, though.”

“People who don't like cats are the worst,” Ten comments, and Jaehyun smiles again.

Tilting his head, Jaehyun says, “I appreciate you bringing her back, but you don’t have to every time. My window is always open so she can come and go when she wants, she’ll come back eventually. And if you’re ready for her to go, you can set her out on your balcony and she’ll come across.”

Taeyong peers around Jaehyun’s side, eyes on his open balcony door, and explains, “I didn’t want her to have to walk on that narrow ledge. What if she falls?”

“She’s got pretty good balance,” Jaehyun assures him, waving one of Minah’s tiny paws around for emphasis, and it’s so cute, Taeyong feels a bit like he’s dying inside. Unconcerned, Minah presses her nose to the back of the hand still clutching her paw, asking to be petted. Jaehyun complies, turning his hand so she can nuzzle into his palm. Taeyong sighs. He loves animals and he loves people who love animals and he  _ really _ loves very, very attractive men who love animals.

He also wants to keep all animals safe, though, and just the thought of Minah falling from the 12th floor makes Taeyong nauseous. Sensing his discomfort, Jaehyun takes a step out of the doorway so he can place a hand on Taeyong’s arm. His hand is very big, Taeyong’s brain supplies helpfully as he stares down at Jaehyun’s hand resting on his forearm. Then, in a reassuring tone that draws Taeyong’s attention back up to his face, Jaehyun says, “You can bring her back over here yourself any time, though, I don’t mind. Like I said, I leave my window open for her all the time, but I’m usually home by four during the week, if you want to come by.”

He offers Taeyong a sweet, dimpled smile, and Taeyong’s stomach twists for an entirely different reason. He’s so distracted by that charming smile and the hand still resting lightly on his arm that he barely registers it when Ten announces, “Okay! Well, I have to go. You two have fun. Love you, Taeyong, call me later.”

Taeyong doesn’t even glace back to say goodbye, just waves vaguely over his shoulder, trying not to appear too disappointed when Jaehyun drops his hand and steps back into his doorway. Then, with a squeeze of Taeyong’s hip, Ten is gone and it’s just him and Jaehyun in the hall, standingly there quietly and smiling at each other. Taeyong really wishes Jaehyun would put a shirt on so he could think properly again.

They stand there in silence for a few minutes, just smiling at each other and listening to Minah’s content purring as Taeyong grows steadily more and more nervous. He can see the cut of Jaehyun’s hip bones over the waistband of his sweatpants and it’s incredibly distracting. Finally, mercifully, Jaehyun takes a breath and breaks the silence, rips Taeyong’s attention away from the absurd length of his legs. “So, you -“

Taeyong starts to panic, though, nervous without Ten’s grounding presence behind him, and before Jaehyun can utter another word, he interrupts, “You know what, I have to go. I just remembered - cake in the oven. I have to go, sorry.”

At the mention of a cake, Jaehyun’s face lights up and he asks, “Oh, you like to bake?”

“Yes,” Taeyong stammers, face flushing as he edges away from Jaehyun and toward his front door. He is entirely too cute for Taeyong to be able to handle. Also too shirtless. Very, distressingly shirtless. “I work in a - I  _ own _ a bakery. I have to -” He points at his apartment door, mutters a rushed, “I’m really sorry,” then dashes inside before Jaehyun can even say bye.

Mortified, Taeyong collapses against the closed door with a groan. Great, now he can never show his face out there again. He’ll have to keep his windows locked at all times so there’s no chance Jaehyun will need to come get his cat. No, he’ll have to move into the bakery so that he doesn’t even run a risk of seeing Jaehyun in the hallways. At least then he’ll always have all of his equipment available so he can practice new ideas whenever he wants. He’ll be much more efficient, he’s sure Ten will approve. 

;;

“You are so stupid.”

Taeyong scowls at the petit fours he’s decorating with tiny, delicate hand-drawn flowers made of frosting. Okay, maybe Ten doesn’t approve of his plan. What a jerk. Taeyong needs to find more supportive friends.

“Instead of hiding and being pathetic, I think you should make Jaehyun a cat shaped cookie and take it over to his place, then politely ask him if you can lick chocolate off of his bare chest.”

Taeyong nearly drops the frosting bag on his beautiful batch of petit fours. Sputtering, he sets the bag carefully aside and turns away from the little cakes so he can glare at Ten. “I want to pet his cat, I don’t want a restraining order!”

Ten just shrugs and plucks a petit four off the platter so he can pop it into his mouth. “Suit yourself. It’s what I would do.”

Taeyong just stares evenly at Ten and yanks the tray away when he goes for another cake. Ten pouts for a moment, but then he just shrugs again. “Just think about it. The worst he can do is say no, and  _ then _ I’ll support your plan to move into the store. Something tells me he won’t say no, though. He touched your arm for like five minutes. He didn’t even  _ look _ at me.”

“Get out of my kitchen,” Taeyong grouses, swatting at him with a dish towel covered in flour, and Ten flees, but not before stealing one more petit four and cackling as he runs off. 

Grumpy about the wasted time and the persistent blush staining his cheeks, Taeyong pats the backs of his hands against face, then picks the frosting bag up and goes back to work on the cakes. “Lick chocolate off his chest,” Taeyong mumbles, scoffing. “Who just says something like that?”

Taeyong tries to put Ten and his silly advice out of his mind while he finishes up the pastries. They’re for a bridal shower and they’re being picked up in three hours, he’s running out of time. Ten ate a few of his spare cakes in case he messes up a flower, too, so he really needs to focus on this last batch and make sure they’re all perfect.

It takes Taeyong the better part of two hours to finish the rest of the cakes - two hours he had spent trying  _ not _ to picture himself and his sexy neighbor and a bowl of chocolate. He had mostly been unsuccessful. There’s frustration eating at the back of Taeyong’s throat and his hands are cramped from gripping the frosting bags so tightly, but his cakes are beautiful. Humming, Taeyong sits back to assess his work, then turns to look at his drawer of cookie cutters. Licking chocolate off of Jaehyun’s body is not going to happen, but the cat shaped cookies might not be a terrible idea.

He glances around the kitchen self-consciously, as if the appliances and tubs of flour and sugar can read his mind and are silently judging him. It’s - it’s not like he’s trying to  _ woo _ Jaehyun, he just wants to make a good impression. In a neighborly kind of way. He’s just thanking him for sharing his cat.

As Taeyong tidies up and packs a large, unused strip of the aluminum he uses to make his own cookie cutters into his bag, he nearly believes his own lie.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for the kind comments on chapter one, I truly didn't expect anyone to want to read this mushy mess. :')
> 
> I'm so sorry for this chapter, when I say "mushy" I REALLY mean it.

It has become a habit, coming home from work and immediately opening every window in his flat. The weather is still beautiful and the breeze that flutters in is heavenly, but what Taeyong really cares about is the tiny gray and white ball of fluff currently curled up at the foot of his bed, oblivious to the way Taeyong is staring intently at her as he sketches on a drawing pad propped up against his knees. It’s been four days since The Jaehyun Incident, and Minah has come to visit every day since. 

Taeyong has taken to setting a small bowl of water out for her and has added cat treats to his shopping list, had even found himself pondering a cat bed shaped like nigiri in the window of a store he passed on his way home from work yesterday. He’d had to remind himself that this is not his cat and that she only stays for a few hours each day, a cat bed is not necessary. The small tray of cat shaped cookies decorated with gray and white royal icing sitting on his kitchen counter, just waiting to be delivered next door, had been, though. Taeyong is pretending to have forgotten about Ten’s smug expression when he had seen Taeyong putting the finishing touches on them in the bakery kitchen that afternoon.

The evening passes peacefully. Taeyong draws Minah while she sleeps on his bed, then follows her into the living room when she wakes up and sits with her on the sofa, basking in the oranges and reds of the dying sun. He draws her some more, then, papers spread out across the coffee table as he hurries to try and catch the way the sunset is reflecting in her eyes, clouds casting patchy shadows across her fur and the fabric of the couch. She wakes up after a while and wants to play, so Taeyong pokes at her belly, letting her chew on his fingers even though it  _ hurts _ . He makes another addition to his shopping list - cat toys, possibly a laser pen - this one more for his own amusement than hers.

Taeyong waits until he’s played with and cuddled Minah sufficiently and is about ready for bed before he sets her outside on his balcony and closes his windows. He hates the idea of her having to cross the balcony railings, but the thought of having to face Jaehyun again makes Taeyong’s stomach churn with nerves. He still needs to deliver his gift, though, wants to do it while the cookies are still fresh. And so, in what is undeniably a cowardly move, Taeyong wraps the cat cookies carefully, writes Jaehyun’s name across the top of the wrapping in his prettiest cake decorator handwriting, then tiptoes out to Jaehyun’s front door and sets them on the little welcome mat in front of it. The mat has multicolored cat paw prints on it, and it’s so cute that it makes Taeyong’s chest ache a little.

He stands there for a moment and chews on his thumbnail, torn between knocking on Jaehyun’s door and dashing away so that he’ll find the cookies before morning and just leaving them, thereby lowering the risk of being caught. He doesn’t want the cookies to get stale or attract bugs, but he also does not want Jaehyun to try and come by to thank him. Unsure of what to do, Taeyong buries his face in his hands and groans. Ten was right, he  _ is _ pathetic.

Sucking in a deep breath, Taeyong forces himself to leave the cookies where they are and head back to his own apartment. Jaehyun will find them when he finds them, it’s the thought that counts. Meanwhile, he is going to go wash his face, then bury himself underneath his blankets so that, if Jaehyun  _ does _ find them tonight and decides to knock on his door, he won’t hear it and will have an excuse not to answer.

;;

The cookies are gone by the time Taeyong leaves for work in the morning. Considering that it’s only 5am and he has no idea what Jaehyun does for a living, he wonders how likely it is that Jaehyun has opened his door since last night. Maybe someone who lives further down the hall saw them and took them, figuring Jaehyun would never know. Maybe Jaehyun did find them, but he hated them, or thought the gesture was too much for someone he’s only spoken to once.

The thought eats away at Taeyong all day. He fills orders in a daze, working on autopilot as he writes birthday messages on cakes and paints butterflies out of chocolate. He gets weird looks from Donghyuck, one of their cashiers who usually jokes around with Taeyong and tries to steal sweets but is oddly reserved that day, watching Taeyong warily. He can hear Donghyuck whispering to Ten out front, hears his name exchanged a few times, but thankfully they mostly leave him alone. Just before closing, Taeyong wraps up the batch of delicate chocolate decorations he’s been working on, pops them into the cooler, and cleans up his station. He needs to stop at the store on the way home, he doesn’t want to have to stay behind to clean up and keep Minah waiting on his balcony for long.

Ten is waiting by the door when Taeyong slips out of the kitchen. Donghyuck is still at the counter, counting out the till. He offers them a small smile, tells Taeyong, “I’m locking up tonight, don’t worry.”

Despite the weird feeling still sitting in the pit of his stomach, affection warms his heart and Taeyong walks over to the counter so he can drop a quick kiss to the top of Donghyuck’s head. “Goodnight, Hyuckie. See you tomorrow.”

The evening is brisk, has Taeyong burying his nose in the collar of his coat as he and Ten walk to the corner together. They stop at the edge of the sidewalk, oblivious to the way pedestrians swirl around them, everyone in a hurry to get home after a long day. Ten cocks his head to the side. Taeyong can tell from his smile that he doesn’t want to hear whatever Ten is about to say.

“ _ So.  _ Heard from loverboy lately?”

Despite the chill, Taeyong feels heat rise to his face. “No, I haven’t seen my  _ neighbor _ since that first day.”

Ten frowns. “Did you give him the cookies?”

Feeling stupid now, Taeyong stares down at his boots and mumbles, “I left them in front of his door.”

“Oh, Taeyongie,” Ten sighs, pulling him into a hug.

Taeyong is not sure why he’s being hugged, but he would never say no to one, so he wraps his arms around Ten’s waist and uses Ten’s shoulder as a shield from the wind. They stand there just like that for a few minutes, until the cold starts to seep through Taeyong’s jeans and he begins to shiver. Reluctantly, he pulls away and shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“Thanks for the hug,” he mumbles, voice already muffled by his collar again. “I need to go shopping, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Feeling more affectionate than usual, Taeyong leans in swiftly to press a smacking kiss to Ten’s cheek, then starts to walk in the direction of his flat.

“Knock on his door, you coward!” Ten shouts after him. Taeyong ignores him, too polite tp shout or do anything untoward in public, like hold up the middle finger he very much wants Ten to see. Instead, he hunches his shoulders against the wind and sets his eyes on the small grocery store down the block from his building.

Taeyong pauses at the corner to wait for the light at the crosswalk to change, takes a few minutes to look around. He loves this time of year, when it starts to get dark earlier, the lights in store windows and the streetlamps all the brighter against the fading sun. The air smells of fall, of dying leaves and spicy foods to keep you warm and the humid, musty air of the Han River a few blocks down. People around him are all bundled for the season, dressed in boots and long pants and stylish coats, umbrellas dangling from the crooks of elbows in the event of an unpredictable autumn storm.

The light at the crosswalk ticks to green and Taeyong gets swept up in a sea of pedestrians shuttling him toward the other side of the street. He has to wiggle his way out of the crowd once they make it to the opposite sidewalk, fights his way out so he can slip through the door of the market and grab a basket. He hums as he wanders the aisles, filling his basket with fresh vegetables and meat and his favorite brand of baker’s chocolate, and only stops when he gets to the pet care section. 

There isn’t much of a selection, since it’s a small store, but Taeyong peruses the different brands of cat food, wonders if maybe he should have researched this first or asked Jaehyun what brand he gives Minah at home. Maybe he shouldn’t get cat food. Maybe cats have sensitive stomachs. Maybe giving her something she isn’t used to will make her sick, or perhaps feeding her will ruin her appetite for the dinner Jaehyun gives her. He just feels bad that she spends hours at a time in his flat and he has nothing to offer her. Worried and unsure now, Taeyong sets his basket on the floor and tugs his phone out of his pocket.

Lips pursed, Taeyong stands in the center of the aisle and looks up the different food brands, reading reviews and considering each one carefully. Some of them have better ingredients than others, but some cat owners seem to think that others taste better. (He hopes that opinion is based off how their cats enjoyed it and not personal experience.) A few of the brands are quite expensive, but according to reviews, the price doesn’t necessarily reflect quality. And while most of the options available in the store are made of fish, a forum he finds says some cats are actually allergic to fish and shouldn’t be eating it at all, while others say certain kinds are okay in moderation. Taeyong’s head hurts. Who knew keeping pets was so complicated.

In the end, after far too long on the pet aisle and some concerned looks from one of the shelf stockers, he chooses one that does not have any fish in it and has decent online reviews. It also has a very cute cat on the label. Satisfied, he tucks a small bag under his arm and stoops down to grab his basket. A small selection of cat treats on the bottom shelf catches his eye as he bends down, so he throws a few bags into his basket, as well. He’s always prided himself on being a good host.

Pleased with his purchases, Taeyong heads home, excited to show Minah what he’s brought her. As expected, she’s sitting patiently in front of his balcony door when he walks in, tail swishing as she watches him through the glass. He takes a minute to set his groceries down and put the meat and vegetables in the refrigerator, then goes to open the door for her.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he greets, crouching down to scratch underneath Minah’s chin and press a kiss to the top of her head. He scoops her up into his arms, murmurs into her soft fur, “Tell me about your day. Where did you go this afternoon? Visit anyone special? How is Jaehyun doing? Has he been wearing any shirts recently?”

Minah answers him by butting her head against his shoulder and purring. Taeyong cradles her to his chest as he carries her into his bedroom, then sets her gently down on the bed so he can change into more comfortable clothes. Minah kneads at Taeyong’s duvet and watches him through slitted eyes as he moves around his room, putting his boots away, folding his jeans, and dropping his shirt, coated in a fine layer of flour and confectioners sugar, into the laundry basket. He talks to her as he tidies up and changes, tells her about his day and the orders he’d filled, the new orders that had come in.

“I’m not sure why they want an orange cake for their wedding, but I’m just the baker,” he says with a sigh as he tugs a hoodie over his head. “And I’m going to give them the best orange wedding cake anyone has ever seen. Oh, hey, let’s go see what I bought you today.”

To Minah’s delight, Taeyong picks her up again and carries her back out to the living room, where he’d left the bag of cat food. He sets her down so that he can grab a small dish from the kitchen, then shakes some kibble out into the bowl and places it on the floor, watches Minah expectantly. Taeyong’s heart flips happily in his chest when she lifts her nose into the air and sniffs delicately, then hops off the couch and heads straight for the bowl. Proud of himself, Taeyong takes a picture and texts it to Ten, to which Ten replies, ‘ _ Less than a week and you’re already her mom. You’re doing a great job, sweetie. _ ’

Taeyong is about to type out a response when a knock sounds on his front door. Oh, no. There’s only one person that could be.

Dread building in the pit of his stomach, fingers going numb from panic, he texts, ‘ _ Please tell me that’s you at my front door. _ ’

Ten’s response simply says, ‘ _ Oh boy. I hope you have some chocolate handy! _ ’

Taeyong stands frozen in the living room, weighing his options. He could ignore the knock and pretend he’s not home. He could throw some shoes on and pretend he was just about to leave, thereby sending Jaehyun right back into his own flat.  _ Or _ he could suck it up and answer the door to his incredibly friendly, incredibly gorgeous neighbor and try really, really hard to be friendly and hospitable and totally, completely chill. Taeyong laughs to himself at that thought, but the laugh turns into a panicked groan when he realizes that if he’s going to answer the door, he needs to do it right now, before Jaehyun gives up and leaves.

Sucking in a long breath, Taeyong rakes his fingers through his hair and starts for the front door. He swings it open just in time to nearly get a fist to the face, takes a hurried step back just as Jaehyun bursts into laughter and drops his hand.

“Wow, sorry, that was close. Nice timing.” Pausing, Jaehyun tilts his head to the side to study Taeyong. A sweet smile spreads across his face, dimples flirting in his cheeks, and he breathes, “Hi. It’s nice to see you again.”

It takes Taeyong an embarrassingly long time to reply. Jaehyun is just as attractive as he remembered, though this time he is, unfortunately, fully clothed. Or maybe fortunately, Taeyong is not sure just yet. His hair is unstyled again, soft brown flopping over his eyes in an endearingly boyish way, and his cheeks are flushed the faintest shade of pink to match his sweater. His eyes are warm as he watches Taeyong, and butterflies flutter madly in Taeyong’s stomach, leaving him breathless and a little nauseous.

“Um,” Taeyong says eloquently. Apparently, his brain doesn’t work near Jaehyun, whether or not he’s wearing a shirt. Great.

“Oh!” Jaehyun laughs again, and he’s so  _ cute _ , Taeyong kind of wants to cry. “Sorry, I know this is kind of unexpected. I just wanted to say thank you. For the cookies,” he adds at Taeyong’s blank look.

“ _ Oh _ , you did get them. Good, I was worried someone took them.” Relief floods Taeyong, leaving him a little dizzy. It’s swiftly replaced by embarrassment, though, because Jaehyun is looking at him with a wondrous expression on his face, something a simple batch of sugar cookies definitely does not warrant.

“I found them when I went to take out some trash. They’re delicious and they look just like Minah. You’re very talented.”

Taeyong can feel himself flush from the tips of his ears, spreading across his cheeks and all the way down to his chest. “They’re just sugar cookies,” he mumbles, mortified, but Jaehyun insists, inching closer so he can do that  _ thing _ again, where he rests a hand on Taeyong’s arm and makes Taeyong feel like he’s about to die.

“They were really sweet. I love them.”

Oh, god. Taeyong shuts his eyes for a brief moment, then, mouth operating independently from his brain, finds himself asking, “Do you want to come inside? Minah is here.”

He’s not sure how it’s possible, but Jaehyun’s smile brightens even further and he nods. “I’d love to. I, um. Brought you something.” It’s only then that Taeyong notices that one of Jaehyun’s hands has been hidden behind his back this entire time. He swings it around to reveal a plain white bag full of something spicy and fragrant. “I wasn’t really sure what you would like, so I got a bunch of different things. I hope you haven’t eaten dinner yet.”

“Oh,” Taeyong blinks, surprised. He turns to the side, flattening himself against the door so that Jaehyun can slip past him and into the apartment. “You - you really didn’t have to do that.”

“But I wanted to.” Once inside, Jaehyun turns to face him. “I should thank you, anyway, for taking care of Minah every night. I know cats can’t speak, but she always comes home very happy, I can tell she really likes you.”

Embarrassed once again, Taeyong scrubs a hand through his hair and scuffs his socked foot against the floor. He’s really going to need to learn how to handle Jaehyun and his earnest kindness.

“I like having her here, she’s good company. I, um.” Taeyong screws his face up and says sheepishly, “I probably should have asked you first, but I felt bad not having anything for her, so I bought...”

He trails off and shuffles over to the sofa so he can lift the bag to show Jaehyun. To Taeyong’s relief, Jaehyun just smiles and says, “That was really thoughtful of you.” He spots Minah with her face still buried in the dish and says, amusement evident in his voice, “I see she’s enjoying it. Good choice.”

Taeyong shakes his head at the memory of standing on the pet aisle, searching each food up on his phone. “I did a little research first. I probably put too much thought into it, but I wanted to make sure I was giving her something good.”

The look Jaehyun gives him, amazed and entirely too intense, has Taeyong’s stomach twisting and his pulse thrumming in his wrists. He can’t quite help the nervous laugh that spills out of his mouth, tries to cover it with an unconvincing cough. Embarrassed, he flees to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll get plates, we can sit in the living room. Make yourself comfortable!”

Taeyong busies himself pulling down plates, bowls, serving spoons, and chopsticks. He grabs two cups and a variety of drinks - water, milk, soda, juice, and an unopened bottle of wine, not sure what Jaehyun will want to drink with his meal.

Jaehyun’s eyes go wide when Taeyong shuffles into the room, arms laden with all of the drink options. “Taeyong,” he laughs, “are you throwing a party?”

“I wasn’t sure what you would want,” he explains, setting bottles and cartons down on the edge of the coffee table. “I’ll go get the plates, you can choose something to drink.”

When he enters the living room again, though, plates and bowls in hand, Jaehyun has not chosen a drink. Instead, Taeyong finds him bent over the coffee table, head tilted to the side as he studies a sketch pad that’s sitting on the low table. Oh, no.

Mortification curls in Taeyong’s stomach. He had forgotten that he’d been working on a few drawings last night and had left them out when he’d put Minah outside. They were never - Jaehyun wasn’t supposed to  _ see _ them. He must make some sort of noise, because Jaehyun’s head jerks up and he blushes, caught. He trails a finger along the edge of the booklet, though, and whispers, “Taeyong, these are beautiful.”

Taeyong looks down at the page he’d left the sketch pad open to. It’s mostly white space, but there is a series of pencil sketches of Minah in various positions on his bed. To Taeyong’s trained eye, he can tell that they’re rough, but Jaehyun is looking down at them in awe and Taeyong cannot believe how sweet this man is.

“These are really not good,” he babbles, fingers itching to close the booklet. He just taps them nervously against his thigh, not wanting to be rude, and continues to ramble. “The perspective is a little off and her legs aren’t proportional and the shading could use a lot of work -“

Jaehyun interrupts, “Taeyong!” Taeyong’s mouth snaps shut and Jaehyun laughs, exasperated. “You need to learn how to accept a compliment.”

Another infuriating blush spreads across Taeyong’s cheeks and when he speaks, it comes out as a weak mumble. “They really aren’t the best I can do. I -“ He bites his lip and looks away, too embarrassed by what he’s about to say to be able to meet Jaehyun’s eyes. “I can draw you some nicer ones. You can have them when they’re finished, if you want.”

“Yes, I want,” Jaehyun breathes, delighted. He looks back down at the rough drawings, asks, “Where did you learn to draw like this?”

Taeyong sets the plates down on the table and starts to rearrange things, needing a distraction. “I went to art school.”

“Wow. Do you have anything else I can see?” 

He peers around the room, as if expecting to find some of Taeyong’s works on the walls or framed and displayed on bookshelves. Then his gaze shifts down to the sketch pad on the table, but he doesn’t flip any pages and Taeyong is grateful for that.

“Um, I’ll have to see what I have. Most of my work is really not very good. I’m better at decorating cakes.”

Jaehyun just levels Taeyong an unamused look, then glances pointedly down at the tablet under his hand. “Something tells me you judge your own work too harshly.”

Taeyong shrugs and tugs the sketch pad out from under Jaehyun’s hands so that he can spread the dishes and drinks out across the table. “You’re right, I’m not good at taking compliments.”

With a sweet smile, Jaehyun nudges their shoulders together, and Taeyong’s heart thuds in his chest when he says, “Well, then I’ll just have to compliment you more often.” 

Taeyong doesn’t know what to say to that. They stare at each other for a long, frozen moment, then Jaehyun looks down, a heart-stopping sweep of eyelashes against high cheekbones. There’s glitter on his face, right next to his left eye, Taeyong thinks, his head all fuzzy. Fingertips tingling, he raises a hand, touches them gently to Jaehyun’s temple and murmurs, “You know you have a bit of glitter right here.”

“Oh?” Jaehyun laughs, then shakes the sleeve of his sweater down over his hand so he can scrub at the side of his face. “Hazards of work.”

Taeyong tilts his head to the side as he settles onto the floor between the sofa and the coffee table. “What kind of work?”

“I teach kindergarten.”

“You -“ Taeyong stops, has to press his lips together before he blurts out something completely unacceptable, like ‘will you marry me’. 

Jaehyun sits beside Taeyong, close enough that their knees touch under the table, and explains as he pulls take out containers from the bag and opens them, “We were learning the order of the colors of the rainbow and why they appear after it rains. We had to paint rainbows, of course.”

“Of course,” Taeyong echoes, staring at the side of Jaehyun’s face. The glitter is still there. “The glitter is still there.”

Jaehyun just laughs and shrugs. “It will come off when I wash my face later. Hopefully.”

The grin he aims at Taeyong then is crooked and entirely too charming. He watches Jaehyun as he lists off each of the dishes he brought, making a mental list of everything he has discovered about Jaehyun so far. He counts points off on mental fingers as Jaehyun scoops pad thai onto his plate for him. Jaehyun is: beautiful, kind, thoughtful, gentle, toned, good with children and animals. He also smells amazing, has excellent taste in food, and looks great in pink. Taeyong is certain that he could keep going, but he thinks Jaehyun is asking him a question. Shaking himself, Taeyong pauses his mental list and gives Jaehyun his full attention again, asking him to repeat his question with a quick apology. 

Jaehyun just smiles at him, easy and lovely, and Taeyong adds ‘patient’ to his list, watches as Jaehyun points at different dishes and explains what they are. Still listening, he closes his eyes briefly and, at the very bottom of the list, adds: ‘Taeyong is: doomed’.

;;

This becomes a habit, too. Taeyong gets home in the evening, lets Minah in, changes his clothes, and putters around for a bit while nerves and anticipation build in his belly and his heart rate slowly picks up. And then, some time after 6 o’clock, once Taeyong knows Jaehyun has had a chance to recover from his hectic day, a knock sounds on his door and he opens it to find Jaehyun bearing some sort of surprise, usually in the form of take out or, occasionally, ingredients that they cook together, hip to hip in Taeyong’s small kitchen.

It gets a little easier, breathing and speaking around Jaehyun. Taeyong is still completely in awe of him, finds new things to add to his mental list every day, but they get along perfectly. They just  _ fit.  _ It makes something warm and gooey twist in Taeyong’s stomach and fill his chest, the way they just fall into this easy friendship, like they’ve known each other for years, rather than mere weeks.

They watch movies and dramas curled up on Taeyong’s sofa, Minah sandwiched happily in the gap between their legs. They go out for hot cocoa on Friday night and drink it huddled together on a bench along the river, the lights of the city reflected in its calm surface and twinkling in Jaehyun’s eyes. Taeyong teaches Jaehyun his sugar cookie recipe and in return, Jaehyun brings him a batch of misshapen and overly decorated cookies he had made with his students while introducing them to chemistry. The cookies are a little lumpy, but it’s Taeyong’s personal recipe and Jaehyun looks so proud of them, and right in the center of the platter is a carefully shaped ‘T’ with a red frosting heart pattern that makes Taeyong’s chest ache.

One night, after they’ve both gone and left Taeyong to go to sleep, he starts to tidy up. It’s only small things - Jaehyun would never leave a mess behind, and that’s another thing to add to his list: neat and organized. But as Taeyong is washing Minah’s food dish, stacking drawing tablets full of sketches (more of Jaehyun than there are of Minah, something he would never admit to), as he’s folding the blanket they had shared while watching the latest episode of Jaehyun’s favorite drama and setting the lavender hoodie Jaehyun has taken to leaving there on top of a stack of other random items Jaehyun has left there, Taeyong just. Stops.

Heart thumping unsteadily in his chest, Taeyong hugs the hoodie tight like a lifeline and looks around the room, at the countless signs of Minah and Jaehyun that litter his flat, not quite sure how he got to this point. The familiar cinnamon and detergent scent of the fabric in his arms has a calming effect on him, the same way Jaehyun’s presence grounds him, but the panic is still sitting in the back of his throat, trying to scratch and claw its way out. 

He’s not sure how, but Jaehyun and Minah have inserted themselves into Taeyong’s life so easily, so seamlessly, filling a hole he hadn’t even realized was there. And now... now he’s just not sure he could survive without them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the kudos and comments, I've been so worried about writing and posting fic, but I'm so happy that I did. And thank you to Jordan, most of all, for always being the most encouraging. 
> 
> Oh god, okay, well I've been writing fic for a _long_ time, but it's been like two years since I've really written and finished anything, especially anything with a mature rating and I'm so nervous, this is fine. I hope this chapter turned out okay, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> This fic is unbetaed, so please excuse any mistakes!

If there’s one thing Taeyong prides himself on (after his work ethic and his cleanliness), it’s his ability to pretend that everything is absolutely fine when everything is, in fact, not fine. He had mentioned this to Ten once, to which Ten had responded by patting him on the shoulder and saying, “If you say so, honey.” 

Ten is  _ wrong _ , though, because Jaehyun is currently sprawled out on Taeyong’s sofa with his head resting on Taeyong’s lap while they watch something on the television, and Taeyong is doing a fantastic job of pretending that he is totally and completely cool with this arrangement. He even has one hand resting casually on Jaehyun’s arm, the other stretched across the back of the couch so he doesn’t do something stupid, like try to play with Jaehyun’s hair. Things are going  _ great _ . Jaehyun has no idea that his heart is beating so fast he feels like he might pass out, and that the faint, citrusy scent of Jaehyun’s shampoo is making it even harder for Taeyong to focus, and he  _ definitely _ doesn’t know that Taeyong had a very vivid dream the other night that started out just like this and ended with - well. He’s not going to think about that while he has Jaehyun’s head right there, anyway.

So yes, Taeyong thinks he’s doing a pretty great job. Ten would be proud.

“You know,” Jaehyun says suddenly, startling Taeyong out of his thoughts, “for a while I thought Ten was your boyfriend.”

Taeyong looks down as Jaehyun rolls onto his back, abandoning the television so he can look up at Taeyong’s face.

“You - what?”

“Well, you were with him the first time we met. And he said ‘I love you’ and touched you here,” Jaehyun explains, tapping his fingers against Taeyong’s hip. His skin burns through the thin fabric of his ragged t-shirt and his pajama pants. “But then I never saw him again and you don’t talk about him that often, and there are no pictures of him around.”

Taeyong stares down at Jaehyun for a moment, not quite sure how to respond. He’s having a hard time processing this so suddenly. Is Jaehyun fishing for information? Is he hinting at something? Is he just stating a fact that has nothing to do with him possibly, potentially wanting to be Taeyong’s boyfriend sometime in the near future?

Unthinking, his brain still a confusing jumble of what-ifs, Taeyong mumbles, “There are pictures of us in my bedroom.”

Jaehyun’s gaze is direct, his voice a deep rumble when he says, “I’ve never been in your bedroom.”

Taeyong’s brain whites out, thoughts going fuzzy. An invitation is on the tip of his tongue, heart thundering in his ears, but instead he whispers dumbly, “It’s not very exciting.”

There’s a short pause, and then Jaehyun laughs and the weird tension is broken. Taeyong doesn’t know whether he’s relieved or disappointed when Jaehyun rolls back onto his side so that he’s facing the television again. Nerves thrumming in his veins, Taeyong places his hand back on Jaehyun’s arm very carefully, nearly misses it when Jaehyun says, voice so soft it’s almost drowned out by the TV, “So Ten isn’t your boyfriend, right?”

“No,” Taeyong says firmly, fingers digging unconsciously into Jaehyun’s bicep. “He has a boyfriend and I...do not,” he finishes lamely. He thinks he feels Jaehyun’s cheek curve up with a smile against his thigh, but he can’t be sure.

;;

“I don’t understand.”

Taeyong looks meaningfully at Ten, tilting his chin down and making his eyes very big for emphasis. “I think he  _ wants to see my bedroom _ .”

Ten stares blankly at Taeyong for a full minute, then pinches the bridge of his nose and asks, “Oh my god, are you in 7th grade? You are 26 years old, you can use the words ‘have sex’.”

Taeyong’s voice is embarrassingly high pitched when he replies, “No, but he literally said ‘I’ve never been in your bedroom,’ he -“

“I agree with Ten, you sound really lame.”

Taeyong turns to glare at Donghyuck, who just smiles angelically back at him as he arranges fresh mochi by color in the display case. 

“All I’m saying,” Ten says with a meaningful eyebrow waggle, “is that you should make sure your room is clean next time loverboy comes over.”

“He’s not -”

“Taeyong’s room is always clean,” Donghyuck points out.

“True,” Ten muses. “Light some candles, then. You get ambient lighting  _ and _ a nice smell. Wear nice underwear.”

Taeyong squawks indignantly. “ _ Ten _ , not in front of the child.”

Donghyuck levels Taeyong an unimpressed look and says, “One, I’m 21. You literally made my birthday cake. Two, I’ve been around Ten and Johnny too much for anything to phase me anymore,  _ mom _ .”

Ten has the grace to look guilty, but it only lasts a fleeting moments before he’s back to ribbing Taeyong. With a self-satisfied little smirk, he leans in close and says, voice pitched low so that Donghyuck can’t hear, “Most importantly, though, don’t forget to have melted chocolate handy.”

With a groan, Taeyong pushes Ten’s face away from his and rises to his feet. “You are no help at all. I’m going back to my cakes. Someone answer that phone.”

Taeyong listens absently as Donghyuck’s voice fills the small bakery. “Yes, of course. Let me just make sure I have everything. You want two dozen cupcakes, half with gold frosting, half with silver, all with engagement ring decorations...”

He lowers his voice as the bell on the front door chimes, signalling a customer. Ten’s voice pipes in, then, blending with Donghyuck’s as he continues to take the order. It’s a mixture of traditional desserts and Western ones, from what Taeyong can still hear. He scribbles down a small list of the ingredients he’ll need for the cupcake decorations, yakgwa, and sweet rice cakes so he can make sure he has everything he needs.

A small smile forms as he starts to line up the ingredients for some red bean paste. This is the perfect excuse to stop at the little shop he had discovered by accident a few months ago, when he had gotten lost trying to walk back to his brand new apartment. The elderly couple that owns it drives in from the country every day in a rickety old truck filled with pots of fresh honey and dozens of homemade ingredients, like soy sauce and sake and home-pressed sesame oil. Most of the ingredients are meant for savory dishes, but he’ll need honey and sweet sake for this new order, and he may pick up a bottle or two for personal consumption.

Humming to himself, Taeyong starts to work up a small dinner menu to go with the sake. Jaehyun is always the one bringing dinner, it’s Taeyong’s turn to provide it. He’s finished a few drawings, too, maybe he’ll leave a little early and try to have everything ready by the time Jaehyun comes over. No candles, though, he tells himself. No matter what Ten says.

Taeyong stares down at the bowl of red beans he’d left soaking overnight, eyes unfocused as he sifts them slowly through his fingers. The water in the bowl is icy from being left out all night, but he can barely feel it as he thinks back to an afternoon a few months prior, sitting in this exact spot as he told himself he was not trying to woo Jaehyun. He hadn’t truly believed it then, and he certainly doesn’t believe it now.

;;

Brow furrowed, Taeyong focuses on his hands as he carefully shapes perilla leaves into something vaguely resembling flowers, then spears them through with toothpicks so they will hold. There is a stack of unfolded leaves on a small plate next to the beef he had grilled while Minah sat next to him on the balcony, sniffing the air and eyeing the pieces of meat as he turned them to sear. There is also a wide bowl of sauteed soba noodles with fresh shiitake mushrooms, a platter of sushi, and rice cooking on the stove, and Taeyong is pretty proud of both his cooking and his plating skills. Maybe he should go into catering.

Taeyong is just finishing up with the plating when there’s a knock on the door, followed by the sound of it swinging open. Nerves immediately start to churn in his stomach.

“Hello?” calls Jaehyun’s voice from the living room. Minah abandons her post on the kitchen table, where she’s been eyeing the plates of meat and sushi, to go greet him, so Taeyong deems it safe to leave the kitchen as well. He knows his smile is a bit shaky, but if Jaehyun notices, he doesn’t say a thing. He just wraps Taeyong up in a warm hug, the fabric of his sweater soft against Taeyong’s cheek.

“You smell amazing,” Jaehyun murmurs, and Taeyong has to fight off a full-body shiver as Jaehyun’s hands sweep down his back to settle on his hips. They stand just like that for a moment, neither of them willing to be the first to let go, until Taeyong hears Jaehyun’s stomach rumble. 

Laughing, he steps back and gestures toward the kitchen. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Jaehyun admits. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, just like Minah had, and affection bubbles like champagne in Taeyong’s chest.

“Everything is ready, we can eat in the kitchen for once.”

Taeyong leads him in and starts moving dishes to the center of the table while Jaehyun just stares. As he pours sake into the small decorative set Ten gave him one Christmas, Jaehyun asks, “You did all of this?”

Taeyong shrugs and waves a hand at the table. “Everything except the sushi. It didn’t take long, Minah helped me grill.” He smiles down at the cat sitting at his feet, staring up at the table hopefully. 

Jaehyun is quiet as he sits down, but once he’s stirred and plated two servings of noodles and placed some sushi on Taeyong’s plate, he mumbles, “I need to step up my game.”

“Jaehyun, you bring dinner over almost every night,” Taeyong frowns. “Don’t get too used to this, anyway, it only happened because I had to get some fresh honey and they had a new batch of sake.”

He raises his own cup, gestures for Jaehyun to do the same. They both take sips, and Taeyong is pleased when Jaehyun hums in approval.

“Besides, we’re celebrating,” Taeyong adds.

Jaehyun’s eyebrows wing up. “Oh? What are we celebrating?”

Taeyong busies himself with another sip of sake, embarrassment tingeing his cheeks pink. He focuses very intently on setting his cup down on the table, equidistant from his plate and the platter of meat, as he says, “I finished some drawings for you.”

“You did?” Jaehyun asks, excitement evident in his voice. He sets his own cup down with a small clatter, asks, “Can I see them?” He pauses a moment, then deflates a little. “Oh, let’s eat first. Don’t want the food to get cold.”

Taeyong watches as Jaehyun considers the spread in front of them, then glances back toward the door to the living room. He can tell from the expression on his face that, if this was any other night when they were just eating takeout, he would plow through the meal so that they could be done and focus on other things. Taeyong put a lot of care into this one, though, so he stays seated and calmly plucks a piece of sushi off the platter and raises it to his mouth. 

He offers Taeyong a sheepish smile. “I can wait, really. Let’s enjoy our meal first. Everything is delicious.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Taeyong chides, clacking his chopsticks at him, but Jaehyun just grins and Taeyong’s heart does that thing again. That worrisome thumping thing that leaves his chest aching and makes him feel short of breath. He drops his gaze back down to his plate and focuses on wrapping some meat into a neat square so that he has a reason not to watch Jaehyun. 

They eat noticeably faster after Taeyong’s admission, though they pause twice to refill their cups of sake. By the time they manage to finish the last of the beef, Jaehyun can’t stop jiggling his leg under the table, impatience and excitement making his movements jerky as he finishes off the last of his drink. 

“I want more of that,” he says, pointing at the bottle, “but I want to see the drawings first.”

“Ah.” Taeyong twists his fingers in the hem of his shirt. He looks down at the messy table. He hates to leave dirty dishes out, but he doesn’t want to keep Jaehyun waiting any longer.

And so, Taeyong pushes back from the table, wags a warning finger at Minah, who’s been sitting at their feet the entire time, then leads the way back out to the living room, Jaehyun hot on his heels. The drawings are on top of the bookshelf, laid flat and out of reach of smudgy cat paws and condensation from cups and bottles. Bouncing up onto his toes, Taeyong pulls them down carefully.

Jaehyun is watching him intently when he turns back around, and Taeyong is so nervous he feels like he might pass out. Fingers trembling, he hands them over to Jaehyun silently.

There are two sheets of thick drawing paper. Taeyong watches, fidgeting restlessly, as Jaehyun studies the first piece. It’s a vertical series, three small sketches of Minah in various positions with ambiguous backgrounds. He had stuck to his drawing pencil for these, but had spent a long time on the shading, giving texture to her fur and, on his personal favorite of the three, penciling in a beam of sunlight that had been streaming in through the window, highlighting tiny dustmotes and gleaming against her glossy fur. He thinks he did a pretty good job of showing that, despite his decision to stick to monochrome on that page.

Objectively, Taeyong knows that the drawings he’s given Jaehyun are good. Anyone seeing his work always makes him antsy, and this is no different, but it’s the second page that makes Taeyong feel like he’s about to crawl out of his skin. And so, to distract himself, he starts to babble. “I wanted to stick with just the pencil for that page for the monochrome effect. It worked really well with the color of her fur. I was going to frame them for you, but then I thought maybe that was too presumptuous -”

Taeyong cuts off when Jaehyun slips the first page behind the second, then gasps.

“Um,” he says, throat suddenly very dry.  _ This _ is the cause of his stress, and the piece he has been working on for weeks now, had put off finishing so he could delay showing it to Jaehyun. He had nearly left it in his room earlier, too nervous to actually give it to him, but he’s put so much into it and he’s so  _ proud _ of it. Oh, god, he hopes Jaehyun doesn’t find it creepy.

A few minutes pass in tense silence while Taeyong watches Jaehyun look at the drawing.

When he finally speaks, Jaehyun’s voice is muted, reverent as he whispers, “ _ Wow _ .” He brushes his fingers gently across the paper, and Taeyong is glad he had the forethought to spray it with a fixative. “When did you do this?”

Taeyong coughs, nervous and awkward, and says, “A couple of months ago. You were here on a Saturday and you fell asleep. I wasn’t going to, at first, but the lighting was so good and then Minah got on top of you, and I - sorry if it’s weird, I just. You looked so peaceful, and...”

Jaehyun’s head whips up and he says, quickly, insistently, “It’s not weird, Taeyong. It’s beautiful. Thank you.” He looks back down at the drawing, studying every square centimeter of it.

For this one, Taeyong had strayed from the monochrome. It’s not in full color, but Jaehyun’s sweater had been a powder blue that day, his cheeks flushed pink from the heat of the sun filtering through the window and Minah asleep on his chest, and so Taeyong had shaded them in lightly, had even used a pale brown in Jaehyun’s hair, just enough for the highlights in it to stand out and give the drawing depth.

Taeyong doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath as he watches Jaehyun study the drawing until Jaehyun asks, “Taeyong?”

“Yes,” he wheezes, sucking in a deep breath, then letting it out slowly. Jaehyun is frowning.

“Why didn’t you sign them?”

Oh. “Well, I wasn’t sure -”

“Nevermind,” Jaehyun interrupts, holding up a hand. “You’re going to say something self-deprecating and I’m going to get upset. We still need to work on the compliment thing.” Despite the words, his tone is gentle, his smile soft when he implores, “Please sign them, Taeyong. I want everyone to know you drew them.”

Taeyong flushes at the thought of other people seeing his work, but he nods. He grabs a cup of sketch pencils off the bookshelf, then beckons Jaehyun over to the coffee table. They kneel next to the table, crowding around the same corner, as Taeyong carefully signs his name in the corner of each of the papers. He drops the pencil back into the cup once he’s finished, but neither one of them moves away. Jaehyun just continues to trace the tips of his fingers along the lines of the drawing of him and Minah, and Taeyong watches his long fingers as they mark their path across the page.

He only looks up when they stop, finds Jaehyun watching him with an unreadable expression on his face. Suddenly very aware of the lack of distance between them, Taeyong’s pulse jumps, heart rabbiting in his chest. He wants to ask Jaehyun what’s wrong, but he can’t speak, even more nervous than he had been when giving him the drawings.

And then Jaehyun’s hands are cupping his face, palms soft against his cheeks. There’s a question in his eyes, one Taeyong’s preoccupied brain cannot comprehend, but he thinks Jaehyun knows the answer anyway, probably has for weeks now. Months, maybe.

There’s the briefest of pauses, enough for one, two short breaths, and then Jaehyun’s mouth is on his, just the barest hint of pressure for a few long, drawn-out moments. Another question. Taeyong responds by wrapping his arms around Jaehyun’s neck and parting his lips. 

Jaehyun makes a soft, desperate noise in the back of his throat, one that has shivers rippling down Taeyong’s spine. Jaehyun smells like cinnamon and he tastes like sake, and when he slides his hands back into Taeyong’s hair, Taeyong curls into him, knocking him back onto his heels. Jaehyun doesn’t break the kiss, just accepts the shift in weight and the pressure of Taeyong against him, but he has to throw one hand out to grab the edge of the coffee table so they don’t fall over and a sudden, loud clatter startles Taeyong into springing back.

Chest heaving, he surveys the room for the source of the sound. It turns out that, in his effort to steady them, Jaehyun had knocked over the cup of sketch pencils, sending them rolling across the table and floor. 

Flustered, feeling a bit like a teenager who just got caught by his parents, Taeyong steadfastly avoids Jaehyun’s gaze as he crawls across the floor, picking up the scattered pencils. Grateful for the distraction, Taeyong takes his time gathering them and arranging them carefully in the cup, takes a few minutes to study the gifted drawings to make sure there are no new, unwelcome marks on them. Satisfied, he pushes unsteadily to his feet and sets the cup back on the shelf, then clears his throat awkwardly. 

Jaehyun is still on the floor, lips kiss-swollen and cheeks flushed as he watches Taeyong shift his weight nervously from foot to foot.

“Um,” Taeyong starts, voice rusty. He clears it again, then asks, “Do you want some dessert?”

Jaehyun just stares blankly at him for a moment, then blinks and shakes himself, rubs his palms over his knees and stands. “Sure,” Jaehyun nods. “Dessert sounds... hey, I’m sorry if I -”

“No,” Taeyong hurries to interrupt. He doesn’t want Jaehyun to apologize, doesn’t want Jaehyun to think he  _ wants _ him to apologize. He wants Jaehyun to kiss him. A lot. Repeatedly. Forever. He just... needs a minute to process. And maybe call Ten. Cheeks burning, he admits, “Don’t apologize. I wanted you to.” The ‘a lot’ is unspoken but understood.

“Oh,” Jaehyun breathes, relief evident. “Good.”

They stand there awkwardly for a minute, unsure, until Taeyong can’t take it anymore and just walks into the kitchen. There’s a short span where he worries Jaehyun won’t follow him, but then he slips through the door and Taeyong breathes out a silent sigh of relief. 

Dessert is multi-colored mochi he had made in the bakery that morning and pilfered from the cooler before leaving for the day. Before starting on dinner, he had scribbled little chocolate decorations onto them and dusted each one with powdered sugar to pretty them up a little, and the effort is worth it when Jaehyun goggles at the platter in Taeyong’s hands.

“Did you make these?” he asks as he takes one off the plate and brings it up to eye level to examine it. The one he’s chosen is pale green and has a tiny chocolate flower on it. The flower is a bit lopsided, but Taeyong thinks that adds to its charm. Plus, he had drawn the flower in about fifteen seconds.

Taeyong nods and chooses his own mochi, a red one with a simple zig-zag pattern and extra powdered sugar. He sets the platter down on the counter and takes a bite. “Sorry the decorations are so sloppy. I did them really quickly when I got home today.”

“Sloppy?” Jaehyun stares down at the colorful array, each little ball boasting a different design. “They’re so pretty. How do you write with the chocolate like this?”

“It’s pretty easy,” Taeyong shrugs. “Keeping your hand steady is the hardest part, but you learn.” He pops the rest of the mochi into his mouth, feeling more relaxed now, and tugs a drawer open so he can show Jaehyun his chocolate pen. “You just melt the chocolate and pour it into here. Sometimes I just use the end of a spoon, but this is more precise.”

“Cool,” Jaehyun murmurs, taking the tool from Taeyong and pushing the button on the side. He looks up at Taeyong, then, that determined gleam in his eye, the same one he had when he asked Taeyong to teach him his cookie recipe. “Can you show me?”

Tilting his head, Taeyong considers it for a moment, then sighs. “Can we clean the kitchen first? I can’t work like this.”

He gestures at the table, still covered in dirty dishes. Jaehyun grins and nods. “I’ll wash, you dry and put away.”

“Deal.” Taeyong loves that Jaehyun doesn’t mind cleaning, is good at it, even. He doesn’t trust many people to wash his dishes.

They stand hip to hip at the sink, Jaehyun scrubbing away at plates and bowls, then handing them over to Taeyong. There’s a neat stack of perfectly clean, gleaming dishes on the counter when they’re done. Already comfortable in Taeyong’s kitchen, Jaehyun offers to put them away, instead, so that Taeyong can get the ingredients and tools necessary for the chocolate writing lesson.

They move around each other easily, brushing shoulders and knocking hips with little giggles and heavy-lidded looks. At one point, when Taeyong’s arms are full of the pots and bowls needed for the double boiler, Jaehyun stops him with both hands on his shoulders and drops a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose.

Taeyong frowns after him, disappointed. That hadn’t been what he was expecting. “Hey,” he complains. “Is that all you have?”

Jaehyun is grinning when he turns around, so wide his dimples are etched into his cheeks like craters and his eyes are nothing more than happy little half-moons. He takes the few steps needed to cross the kitchen, grasps Taeyong’s face in between his palms, and  _ really  _ kisses him, quick and dirty. When he steps back, Taeyong is panting, eyes glazed over, and Jaehyun has to lunge for the glass bowl when it slips out of Taeyong’s lax grip.

“Okay,” Jaehyun laughs, setting the bowl carefully on the counter and easing the pot out Taeyong’s hands. “No more of  _ that _ while there are breakables nearby.”

“Sorry, I -” Taeyong blinks the haze out of his eyes. “Yes, okay. I’m good. Wow. Okay. Chocolate.”

He starts off in the wrong direction, has to stop, think, and pivot the opposite way. He can hear Jaehyun snickering behind him, but Taeyong pointedly ignores him as he pulls a bag of chocolate wafers from one of the cupboards. “Don’t laugh at me,” he pouts, shaking the bag. “I’m using my best chocolate on you.”

Jaehyun pulls his expression into one of total seriousness and says in a sober tone, though Taeyong can hear a hint of a laugh underneath it, “Yes, teacher. Sorry, teacher.”

Taeyong sighs, long-suffering and dramatic, then waves Jaehyun over to the stove. 

“Okay, you never want to melt chocolate on a direct flame, because it has a low melting temperature and will burn. So we’re going to fill this pot with just a few centimeters of water and put the bowl inside to make a double boiler.”

Taeyong watches, chin hooked over Jaehyun’s shoulder, as he places the pot in the sink and fills it with water, mindful not to fill it too much. He walks Jaehyun through the steps of heating the water to a gentle, rolling boil, then balancing the glass bowl on the rim so that the steam gets trapped and heats the glass. He shakes a handful of the wafers out into the bowl and hands Jaehyun the spatula so that he can stir, watches as it starts to melt into a smooth, glossy paste.

“That looks perfect,” Taeyong says when it’s ready, nodding in approval. “If you were going to use this to make a frosting or a ganache, or maybe to dip fruit or cookies, you would add some sort of fat, like oil, to thin it out a little and make it fluffier. This works well for writing, though, because it doesn’t spread.”

Taeyong hands Jaehyun the pen and shows him how to fill it, then caps it and takes it gently from Jaehyun’s grip. 

“You hold it just like a marker,” he explains, then points at the button on the side. “This opens the tip so the chocolate can flow out. Don’t press too hard, or it will come out too thick.”

Taeyong rolls out one of his silicone writing mats and demonstrates by drawing a quick butterfly.

“You make it look so easy,” Jaehyun mutters as he takes the pen from Taeyong and adjusts his grip.

“I’ve been doing this for a long time,” Taeyong soothes. He places a hand on Jaehyun’s hip and rests his cheek on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s hard at first, but it gets easier.”

Taeyong watches as Jaehyun starts with a shaky line, then tests out simple shapes, like circles and squares. Curious, he looks up at Jaehyun’s face and forgets to look back down at the work he’s doing. Jaehyun just looks so  _ cute _ , brow furrowed and tongue caught between his teeth as he concentrates. Taeyong’s heart beats a steady, rapid tattoo against his ribs as he studies Jaehyun, traces his pout with his eyes and thinks about those lips on his again. He wants that, preferably soon. He should probably hurry this along.

Just as he’s about to open his mouth and say something, Jaehyun tips his head back and says, “Okay, I think I’m out of ink. But I think I already got better?”

Tearing his eyes away from Jaehyun’s face, Taeyong looks down at the drawing mat, scanning the various designs and doodles. Most of them are pretty wobbly, but there’s a decent flower that’s actually pretty impressive for a beginner, and -

Taeyong’s breath catches in his throat. In the bottom corner, ringed by a single wavy line to separate it from the rest of the doodles, is ‘J ♡ T’. He can hear his heartbeat roaring in his ears and he reaches blindly for the pen, needing to respond. His racing heart is so loud, he barely registers it when Jaehyun says, “I think it’s empty, Taeyong, I took off the cap to check -”

Without thinking, he shakes it, trying to coax the remaining chocolate into the tip, and jerks back when he feels warm chocolate splatter across his face. Taeyong stares down at the pen in shock, not quite sure what just happened.

“I told you, I took the cap off,” Jaehyun says, pulling the pen out of his hand. He sounds amused.

Still in shock, Taeyong turns to Jaehyun, then gasps. “Oh my god, Jaehyun. Your sweater, I’m sorry, I...” He stares at the tiny drops of chocolate sinking into the pale purple fabric, dismayed.

Jaehyun cranes his neck so he can look down at his own chest. “Oh. Do you think we can get it out?”

Before Taeyong can even respond, though, Jaehyun is tugging the sweater carefully over his head and carrying it to the sink. Taeyong just stares after him, mouth hanging open. He didn’t have anything on underneath the sweater, miles of smooth, naked skin now on display.

“I should probably use cold water, right?” Jaehyun frowns down at the tiny drops, as if they could somehow answer him. “Do you think I should use soap?”

Taeyong shakes his head slowly. “No,” he whispers, head all fuzzy. Jaehyun is  _ so _ fit. Shaking himself, he repeats, louder this time, “No, just cold water first.”

He moves over to stand shoulder to shoulder with Jaehyun, skin burning everywhere they touch. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to this. To Jaehyun. He kind of hopes he doesn’t.

Feeling remorseful, Taeyong takes the sweater from Jaehyun and runs it under the faucet himself, scrubbing at the chocolate spots with his fingernails until they’ve faded to a dull brown, but that’s as clean as it will get. “It’s ruined,” he says mournfully, staring down at the sodden fabric. He really loved this sweater on Jaehyun. “I’m so sorry, Jaehyun. Tell me where you got it and I’ll buy you a new one.”

Chuckling, Jaehyun shakes his head and squeezes the back of Taeyong’s neck. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had that sweater for too long, I don’t think we’ll be able to find it anywhere. It doesn’t matter, though. Hazards of the job, right?”

His grin is crooked and entirely too adorable. Taeyong already feels a little bit better.

“Not  _ your _ job.”

“Hey,” Jaehyun laughs, “I think my job is just as messy as yours.” Jaehyun pauses for a moment, tilts his head and considers Taeyong. “Do you wear an apron at work?”

“Sometimes,” Taeyong shrugs. “When I remember to put one on.”

Jaehyun smiles, a soft, sweet thing, and leans in to nose at Taeyong’s cheek, brush his lips against the corner of his mouth. Taeyong loses every single train of thought. “I bet you look so cute when you do.”

“I -” Taeyong starts, then stops when he realizes he has no idea what to say. His brain is completely and utterly blank, filled with nothing but  _ Jaehyun Jaehyun Jaehyun _ . Jaehyun doesn’t seem to notice his lack of response.

“Hey,” he whispers conspiratorially, easing back, “let’s clean up and finish the sake. We can pretend to watch a movie but make out instead.”

Taeyong feels his entire body flush as he nods. He wants that. He really,  _ really _ wants that.

Okay, time to clean up so they can proceed with the making out. Taeyong looks down at the sweater in his hands, needing to assess the damage before he decides what to do with it. Too late, he realizes that he had pulled it out of the sink when Jaehyun had distracted him and that it’s been dripping water onto the floor for the past few minutes. Before he can say anything, though, warn Jaehyun, he steps around him and, as expected, slips in the puddle. Jaehyun grabs desperately for the counter to try and balance, miraculously manages to drag himself over the top of it and cling for dear life.

Horrified, Taeyong whispers, “Jaehyun.”

“I’m fine,” Jaehyun wheezes as he settles his feet flat on the floor. “Be careful, it’s slippery.”

“No, you - “ Taeyong points at his torso where it’s stretched out across the counter, his chest flat against the silicone drawing mat. Some of the chocolate had already dried, but some of Jaehyun’s shakier lines were too thick, and he can already see some of it smeared across his sides.

Still unsteady, Jaehyun straightens up carefully and, for the second time that night, cranes his neck so he can look down at his chest. “Oh,” he says simply. Then he looks at Taeyong’s hands, still clutching the sweater, and jokes, “I could just use my sweater to clean it off.”

Biting his lip, Taeyong stares at the streaks of chocolate littering Jaehyun’s torso, stark against his pale skin. It’s been so long since he’s seen Jaehyun shirtless. He is really, very toned. Taeyong can feel his cheeks flush as he drags his gaze up to meet Jaehyun’s, blushes even further when he sees the consideration in Jaehyun’s eyes, the hint of a smirk on his mouth.

Before Taeyong knows what’s happening, Jaehyun is striding forward, careful to avoid the puddle on the floor, and pulling the wet sweater out of his hands. It hits the floor with a splat, but Taeyong barely hears it because Jaehyun’s mouth is on his, lips soft and sweet. Jaehyun’s hands are warm against the sides of his neck and everything smells like chocolate and Taeyong clutches desperately at Jaehyun’s hips, not quite sure where this is going, but ready for anything.

He protests when Jaehyun leans back, tries to chase his mouth, but Jaehyun shakes his head, hands insistent at the hem of Taeyong’s sweater. “Off,” he mutters, tugging. “Don’t want to get yours dirty, too.”

Too desperate to feel shy, Taeyong just lifts his arms and lets Jaehyun pull the sweater over his head. He shivers in the sudden chill of the kitchen, but then Jaehyun crowds him in against the counter, chest to chest, and Taeyong no longer feels the cold. Winding his arms around Jaehyun’s neck, Taeyong lifts his face to accept Jaehyun’s kiss. In the back of his mind, Taeyong spares a fleeting thought for Minah, wonders where she is and hopes that she’s not in the kitchen watching this happen. He’s too preoccupied to check, though.

Everything feels heightened like this, skin to skin in the cold room, and Taeyong pulls Jaehyun against him, desperate for contact.  Jaehyun is just so  _ warm _ , his body so lean, and he smells like his usual cinnamon but like chocolate now, too. Taeyong can honestly say that he’s never been turned on by the smell of chocolate before, but he supposes there’s a first time for everything. He hopes this doesn’t make work awkward.

Taeyong has to break the kiss so he can drag in a desperate breath when Jaehyun bends him back over the counter and rolls their hips together. Undeterred, Jaehyun just closes his mouth around the sharp point of Taeyong’s collarbone, and Taeyong moans. He can feel his knees giving out, isn’t sure how much longer he can remain standing when Jaehyun keeps nudging his thigh against him  _ just _ so.

“Jaehyun,” he breathes, fingers scrabbling at Jaehyun’s sides, “ I can’t -”

Jaehyun’s mouth is still pressed to his skin when he speaks, hot breath against Taeyong’s skin sending goosebumps spreading down his chest. “Do you want me to stop?”

“ _ No _ ,” Taeyong gasps, “don’t stop. Ever. Don’t stop,” he insists, pulling Jaehyun even closer. “I just don’t know how much longer I can stand here, you’re so -”

Without a word, Jaehyun pulls them both gracelessly to the floor, rolling them so that they avoid the puddle and so Taeyong’s torso doesn’t touch the cold concrete. He grins up at Taeyong, looping one leg around the back of Taeyong’s thigh so he can grind up against him, and asks, “Is that better?”

In lieu of a response, Taeyong does exactly what he’s been thinking of for the past several minutes. Desire rumbling in his belly, he dips his head and flattens his tongue against the skin of Jaehyun’s chest, licking at some of the dried chocolate. Jaehyun lets out a filthy moan that goes straight to Taeyong’s cock and he grinds down, then licks him again, scrapes his teeth over a wider streak near his nipple. Jaehyun writhes underneath him, fingers digging into his sides, and power thrums in Taeyong’s veins.

He makes his way across Jaehyun’s chest, using teeth and tongue and sucking unnecessary bright red marks into his skin as Jaehyun makes desperate noises underneath him, grinding against Jaehyun’s thigh until he can’t take it anymore. He’s gotten nearly all of the chocolate, anyway, and they can - should - take a shower later anyway. He wants to feel the weight of Jaehyun on top of him, has been thinking about this,  _ dreaming _ about this for months now.

Lips swollen, mouth full of the taste of chocolate and Jaehyun, Taeyong grips Jaehyun’s arms and rolls them over until he’s on his back and Jaehyun is on top of him, a warm, solid, comforting weight. Taeyong parts his legs so Jaehyun can settle between them, groaning at the way they fit, at the hard press of Jaehyun’s dick against his own, hot even through the fabric of their pants. Jaehyun is heavier than he looks, but it feels so good, better than he had imagined it would. Tipping his head back against the floor, Taeyong grinds up against him, desperate and slowly losing his mind.

“I think I got some chocolate on you,” Jaehyun whispers, and when he scrapes his teeth against the top of his chest, Taeyong’s brain shuts down, his entire world narrowed down to only the points of contact between him and Jaehyun - Jaehyun’s mouth against his chest, their stomachs pressed together, Jaehyun’s cock rubbing against his own.

Eyes squeezed shut, Taeyong wraps his arms around Jaehyun’s neck and buries a hand in his hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp. He wraps his legs around the backs of Jaehyun’s thighs, the best he can do in his restricting jeans, but it doesn’t matter. He can barely feel the discomfort as Jaehyun kisses and nips his way up the side of his neck to his jaw, breaths coming in short bursts against his skin as he rocks down against Taeyong, hips working in slow, rolling thrusts that have Taeyong’s eyes rolling back. God, he can’t wait to get fully naked with Jaehyun.

The thought has Taeyong’s toes curling against the backs of Jaehyun’s thighs. He kind of can’t believe this is happening, dry humping like teenagers on his cold kitchen floor while covered in dried chocolate, but it feels too good to stop now. He tugs on Jaehyun’s hair, pulling him around for a kiss as he feels his orgasm building in the pit of his stomach. He’s so close already, he just needs - 

Whining a little, Taeyong drops his feet to the floor so he can get his own leverage, tips his head back so Jaehyun can mouth at his pulse point, and that’s exactly it. Pressing Jaehyun’s face closer, until he can feel teeth against the side of his neck, Taeyong lifts his hips to meet Jaehyun’s, increasing the pressure until it feels like there are flames rolling through his veins, consuming him from the inside out. Mindless with it now, Taeyong tightens his grip in Jaehyun’s hair, vaguely registers the way Jaehyun shudders against him and bites down on his neck, and then he’s coming, so hard he sees stars behind his eyelids.

 

It takes a long time for Taeyong to come down, for his lungs to stop burning and for feeling to return to his fingers and toes. When he finally opens his eyes, Jaehyun props himself up on his palms and gazes down at him, looking just as wrecked and dazed as Taeyong feels. A self-satisfied smile works its way across Taeyong’s face and he lifts a hand so he can brush the tips of his fingers across a purpling bruise high on Jaehyun’s chest, in the exact shape of his mouth.

“Wow,” Jaehyun says, his voice throaty and raw.

Grinning, Taeyong echoes, “Wow.” Tilting his head, he pokes at another bruise, vivid red, right next to Jaehyun’s nipple, pleased at the way Jaehyun shivers. “Next time, though, let’s take all of our clothes off first.”

Jaehyun rolls off of Taeyong and settles beside him, laughing breathlessly. “Next time, completely naked,” he agrees.

_ Oh god, _ Taeyong thinks as he lays on the floor, still struggling for breath, and stares up at the ceiling. He’s not sure how his evening got to this point, but he can feel the heat rolling off Jaehyun’s body where he’s sprawled out next to him, keeping that side of him passably warm in the chill of the room, feels a sweet tug on his heart as Jaehyun links their pinkies between them and tucks his foot over Taeyong’s shin. His thighs ache and his back is freezing and there’s a little bit of dried chocolate Jaehyun missed under his jaw, vaguely itchy as it pulls at his skin, but he feels  _ great _ , can still taste the chocolate and Jaehyun on his tongue. He wonders if Jaehyun would want to do that again.  _ God _ , he thinks again, laughing softly.  _ Wait until he tells Ten _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this silly thing! I'm on my personal twitter [twitter](https://twitter.com/babietaeyong), [writing twitter](https://twitter.com/iambigbabyjeno), and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/bigbabyjeno) if you want to talk!


End file.
